


Locked and Loathed

by dropkicks



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Cars, Enemies to Lovers, Gang AU, Guns, Insanity, M/M, Prosthetics, Racing, Violence, and a motorcycle, idk how to tag, jisung is addicted to lollipops, seungmin hates sweets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dropkicks/pseuds/dropkicks
Summary: Kim Seungmin would call himself sane. He could design metal prosthetics far better than anyone in the building, and yet there he was, filing paperwork. Kim Seungmin would call himself sane, until he wasnt.Han Jisung, automechanic by day, arms dealer by night. And in more ways than one.Both are overflowing with passion for their craft, have guns in their hearts, and are locked and ready to load.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Locked and Loathed

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written in ages so im sorry if this sucks.. this came to me at 12am out of nowhere and i scribbled the idea for first chapter onto a sticky note. i don't really call myself a writer (im a fanartist lmao) but i really hope you enjoy this.
> 
> also update :) I'm going to write this story in its entirety before updating again..so it might be a while. I dont think it's right for me to just update it month after month (I tend to forget about wips too) so yeah!! imma make this story the best I can and return and post it ! thanks so much mwah !! u can think of this as a prologue lol

Kim Seungmin would call himself sane.

Hell, even when the cyber security interns next door broke into his apartment and trashed the place--he kept his cool. All ‘twenty seven cans of cheap beer and hundreds down the drain spent in repairing his wall’ kind of cool.

He kept it sane when the idiot behind him crashed into his Honda NSX on the way to his interview, rendering it totalled. He can still hear the sweet crunch as the trunk gave in and as the nitro engine gave its final hiss. It’s not like he had spent the entirety of his Summers working his ass off at the grocery store and juggling online classes at the same time to afford a nice car or anything. Definitely not. All he asked the driver was to take him to his interview for his dream job at Biomail Institute. Sure, the driver looked at him a little crazy, but he obliged and allowed Seungmin to hitch a ride in his stained passenger seat.

Kim Seungmin kept his cool when he was 10 minutes late to the interview. And when he was offered an office job at Biomail Institute instead of being one of their prized biomech designers. It was long days spent filing paperwork, answering calls with dissatisfied customers on the other line, and responding to emails. All with the promise of ‘working up in the ranks’, or whatever the supervisor had said. It was nice after two years when all he had to show for himself was darkening eye bags and a new fondness for bitchy customers with prosthetic problems. Yeah, Kim Seungmin kept himself sane.

Well, when did Seungmin’s sanity finally leave him, middle-fingers-up-in-the-air kind of way, speeding down I-293 in a shiny red motorcycle? At the corner of the local 7-11, the one between Melrose and Rizdon Terrace.

\-----

_ June 18th, 2057. 5:23 p.m. _

Seungmin finds himself in his usual routine, at the 7-11 browsing the snack aisle at the end of a long day at work. He’ll look at the array of options as always, not even entertaining the thought of buying anything with corn syrup or sugar. He’ll find the hot cheetos as he usually does, the big bag with the cheetah on a motorbike. Seungmin smiles to himself, if all else fails  _ this _ is the one guy he can count on. A cheesy cartoon cat, worth four eurons, and Kim Seungmin against the world.

Seungmin meddled with the loose thread of his blazer, trying to muster up the courage to check his bank account. With one simple touch to the chip implanted on his wrist, he could easily see the balance. He  _ had _ paid rent yesterday, and it  _ was _ his turn to pay for coffee at the office today. But surely he had four eurons to spare? Seungmin quickly decided against checking his account and made his way through the aisles and to the counter.

The employee behind the glass window barely spared him a glance as he took the hot cheetos with his large hands. Seungmin swiped his left wrist across the scanner.

Seungmin glanced over his shoulder to see two other people in line behind him. He could have sworn he was the only one in the store. The old man in the back of the line looked six seconds away from popping the buttons on his jacket, and the kid behind Seungmin slurped noisily on his soda. 

God, did Seungmin want to chuck that drink across the gas station. Maybe it was because both of his parents were dentists, but surely that gremlin knew the sugar in the soda was rotting his teeth second by second. Shit, Seungmin wouldn't be surprised if a few teeth fell out right now with how hard the boy was downing the drink.

“You’re short thirty seven cents”, came the monotone voice of the cashier.

Seungmin whipped his head around and politely smiled at the man. 

“I’m sorry there must be a problem”. He swiped his wrist again and watched the neon screen on the window in front of him flash ‘thirty seven cents’ once more. Seungmin let out a sigh and reached into his pockets to fish out some extra change.

It seemed that it was just his luck that not only did he not have change, the office started calling him at the same time.They were probably going to bitch to him about leaving the desktop on or not clearing the cache--it was about that time of day. And just to top it off, Seungmin’s ringtone was something an ordinary person would be embarrassed of. In Seungmin’s opinion, he quite enjoyed the songs from the ‘10s.

_ ‘Right right turn off the lights, _

_ We gonna lose our minds tonight’ _

“Please let me answer this”, Seungmin pleaded, reaching across the counter to grasp the hot cheetos. 

“Sir you have to pay thirty seven cents for the cheetos or you will have to leave”.

Jeez, Seungmin scoffed internally. What an ass. And the final card was put into place when the old man in line coughed. And it all came crashing down.

The kid behind him must have either been in the zone or on something because his limbs failed himself as his soda was flung into the air. And thus, rained down upon Seungmin in a sticky, brown shower.

Looking back on it, it was quite artistic really. Not even Monet or DaVinci could have depicted the beautiful arc upon which the Mr. Pepper rained down upon him.

_ ‘I love when it’s all too much, _

_ Five a.m. turn the radio up,  _

_ Where’s the rock and roll?’ _

Seungmin felt his blood boil and the stress of the day wash over him like a tidal wave. The rage in him wanted to spill, spill, spill. And that it did--in the embodiment of him tightening his grip upon the bag of hot cheetos--so hard that it popped. 

He could practically feel everyone’s eyes on him.

“Sir, now you  _ have _ to pay for the cheetos”. 

And there it was. The eureka. The moment where Seungmin can point the exact moment he began to lose his sanity. The moment he decided to finally let loose. He didn’t exactly think,  _ hey let me live a little _ , it was more like a switch was flipped--a rewiring in his brain.

He let his blazer fall down to his shoulders and he leaned up against the counter, arms crossed. “Well”, he reasoned, dragging on the word for far too long, “I don’t exactly have thirty seven cents. Like fucking none. Nada”.

The cashier's dark eyes bore into him as Seungmin stared expectantly. It was like a game, he thought, I could get used to this.

_ ‘Don’t be fancy,  _

_ Just get dancy,  _

_ Why so serious?’ _

However, what happened next Seungmin did not expect. The old man--the one that looked like his belt buckle would pop off any minute now--barged his way over to him, footsteps echoing throughout the mostly silent store. Seungmin thought the man's eyebrows were far too thick for his age and his white beard could use some touch ups.

Old Man looked at Seungmin with such harsh eyes, which would have frightened Seungmin, if not for his new found attitude. “Listen kid, I’ll cover the change, just leave”, he seethed. 

Seungmin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Who exactly did Old Man think he was? Jesus? Because Seungmin was certainly not going to accept his offerings. Seungmin was going to walk out of this store with cheetos, bank status be damned. Just before he was going to say something smart, or perhaps step on the man’s toes, the old man spoke up.

“I’ve seen you at the office--the way you word your emails I would have thought an eighth grader wrote them, not someone who graduated top of the biomechanics class”.

_ ‘We will never be never be, anything but loud, _

_ Nitty gritty, dirty little freaks’ _

And just for some flavor, the old man added, “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far”.

Seungmin bit his tongue, so hard in fact, that he could taste the coppery tang of blood. This was just his luck. It took everything he had in himself to fight the tidal wave of  _ rage, rage, rage, _ and not deck the old man in the face.

On second thought, the hot cheetos would have to wait. He high tailed it out of there, the chime of the door still playing in his ears as he sped off in his dingy pickup truck. Tires squealing, he made his way down roads he had never been to before. Seungmin wouldn’t call himself a coward for walking out the 7-11 on the corner of Melrose and Rizdon Terrace. Seungmin would say he saved the people inside the store--the cashier who hated his job, the teenager who drank too many sodas to count, hell, even the old man--from the chaos he was going to ensue.

  
  


_ ‘So raise your glass if you are wrong, _

_ In all the right ways, _

_ All my underdogs’ _

\-----

And that’s how Seungmin ended up in the gravel parking lot of District Dealerships and Repairs. Its meager spray painted sign and warehouse appearance didn’t seem to attract many customers, but Seungmin saw it as promising. He made his way to the service desk--which didn’t seem to be much like a desk at all and more like a fold-out plastic table. Seungmin exchanged smiles with the male seated behind it. And after a too long talk with the curly haired guy named Chris with some nasty scars, they settled on a deal. Seungmin’s pickup truck and his blazer, yeah even he thought it was a little weird, for the red Ducati V6s. He really did think it was truly a steal, however, even more so shady. But with one look at the shiny fresh coat of paint and the silver cobra logo stretched across the front, he was sold.

Thus Seungmin left District Dealerships and Repairs car-less, a pound lighter, and with a practically new motorcycle. 

He hopped on I-293, which happened to be conveniently located nearby, revving the motorcycle with a grin on his face. He flew down the left lane watching with glee as the speedometer increased. Ninety three. Ninety nine. One hundred and twelve.  _ One hundred and twenty nine. _

He knew he was going too fast for his own good, but a single cell in Seungmin really couldn’t seem to care. 

For the first time in a long time, perhaps in his whole entire life, Seungmin felt free. Fuck, here he was, on his way to quit his job at a company he once admired. In a sleek top of the line motorcycle to top it off. Dead cell phone seated deep in his pocket and no money to his name. He probably reeked of Mr. Pepper and Old Man breath, but as stated before, he couldn’t give a damn. Because hell, Seungmin didn’t know what he was going to do after this, but he knew it would be so much more exciting than what he had done before.

As someone who was once coined the ‘genius’ of his biomechanical design class, Seungmin could practically walk into any other firm and have a job offer on the spot. Or maybe he could start anew and move across the country and farm pigs or some shit. Or join a gang. He didn’t have a clue what his next step was that was okay. He would leave it up for whatever fate to decide what it had in store for him.

Seungmin had finally let loose. And as the final goodbye to his sanity that he held onto for so, so long, twenty-one year old Seungmin did something a typical twenty-one year old would do. Fly down I-293 in a Ducati V6s, no grip on the handles, and with middle fingers up in the air. God, it felt good.

He let out a laugh that he held onto for so long. Seungmin was going to show them, all the people who looked down upon him, what he was capable of. The rage in his veins was replaced with passion and he let the speedometer stretch to one hundred and thirty seven.  _ One fifty four _ .

Kim Seungmin had a gun full of anger, passion, and determination in his heart. And it was locked and ready to load.

**Author's Note:**

> i am a hoe for repetition so that last phrase will be a recurring theme and,, will make a lot more sense.. also if i made spelling/grammar mistake feel free to correct me :) thanks for reading


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